HAPPILY EVER BEFORE (12 page)

Grace hated her job. George hated being sober. Diane hated her daughters. Clair hated no one--at least not at this very moment. It was also Thursday.
The Thursday.
Grace, Clair, George, and a not so happy about it Diane, were finally going to put to rest the great
Piceno
debate. The three women had various areas of the museum staked out. Diane knew they were there. She also knew that if she didn’t ask him out, one of them would do the deed for her.  Diane took her normal stroll through the museum. Every afternoon she watched the patrons to see what exhibits they responded too and once in a while she’d engage someone in conversation. In the past month, she had spoken to Sal twice.  There was something about this man that fascinated her. He was handsome, but not too handsome, he dressed nicely, but not too nicely, and he strode through the museum with a confidence and bravado that was completely alluring. Diane turned her head in time to catch Clair gesturing for her to look to the right. There was Sal. Diane’s stomach lurched. Shit, she was hoping against hope that today would be the one-day he didn’t show. Diane told herself to suck it up. She was a grown woman. There was nothing intimidating about asking a man out and yet, the last guy she asked out, she married and then he got run over by a snowplow. Diane stopped in front of the
Manet
. Maybe she could slip out the back.

“Excuse me?”

Diane turned and found herself face to face with Sal
Piceno
and George. “Yes?”

George grinned, “Diane, I wanted to introduce you to my friend Sal.”

“Your friend?”

“You’re surprised I have friends?” He laughed.        

George took Diane by the arm and walked her and Sal toward the Roman Greco sculptures. “Sal and I go way back. Don’t we Sal?”

“A whole fifteen minutes. George and I got to talking at the snack bar. By the way, have you ever tried the chocolate cheesecake they have? It’s terrific.” George stopped walking. Sal shyly looked at his feet, then back at Diane. “Anyway, we got to talking and she asked me why I was always here and I confessed that I was trying to get up the nerve to ask out a very beautiful woman. When George asked who, well, here we are.”

Diane blushed. “Um, wow, really?” She looked to George for help, but she was already walking away.

“So, what do you say?” Sal nervously asked.

“Uh, sure, I think that would be fun,” Diane stammered. Fun, she thought, you sound like an idiotic teenager. Suddenly, Sal kissed her. And, not one of those polite kisses on the cheek, he went in for the kill.

He smiled at a surprised Diane. “That was really nice, don’t you think?” Diane blushed again. “And trust me it will make the first date so much easier. We won’t have the pressure of wondering what our first kiss will be like.” He sighed. “I stole that from a Woody Allen movie.” Diane laughed. She liked this man.

“I hope that’s the only thing you do before a first date.” Sal turned to find Grace, Clair, and George staring at him.

Grace sized him up. “No funny stuff okay? This is a very special lady.”

“I believe it. I believe it,” said Sal.

 “I thank you for your concern, but really girls.”

“Really what, mom?” asked Clair.

“Oh, these are your daughters!
he
said, with a twinkle in his eye.

George grinned. “Not me. I’m her body guard and lawyer.”

Sal laughed. He liked this woman even more because of these three. “When do you get off work?”

“Five,” a confused Diane answered.

“That gives me two hours to take these ladies out for coffee and win them over.
If I get their approval, how about an early dinner?”

Diane looked at their grinning faces and was overcome by the urge to send them to their rooms without dinner.
“Even without their approval--dinner tonight!”

“Terrific,” said Sal. “I’ll pick you up at five.” Diane, unsure of what else to say, nodded her head. As he strode out with them, Diane felt a bit flustered and went to the cafeteria to try the chocolate cheesecake.

“So quit,” Sal said. Grace couldn’t believe she was getting advice from a complete stranger.

Clair agreed. “He’s right. Quit. Now is the best time to do it, you don’t need the money. You’re already getting paid.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” asked Grace.

“I don’t know,” said Sal, “enjoy being pregnant?” Sal smiled. It had been while since he felt like what he said mattered. Not that volunteering with the ACLU and The Sisters of Mercy Mission didn’t matter. It did matter. It mattered a lot. It just mattered in a different way. These were young people who were seeking him out and it wasn’t because their lives were in the
shitter
and they needed to be rescued. He knew he was being test driven for their mother, but it still made him feel good. “Let me ask you a question…”

Grace grinned, “I don’t know who the father is.” Everyone cracked up.

 “Do you have passion, a real burning passion for what you do?”

Grace sighed. “No.” She answered so quickly she surprised herself.

He turned to George. “Do you?”

“I used too...”

He turned to Clair. “And you?”

She laughed. “Sadly, yes, I enjoy my job.”

Sal grinned. “If you’re digging holes for a living and you love it
who
cares? I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know that if you don’t have a burning passion for what you’re doing in life, stop doing it!” He cut Grace off before she could protest. “I’m not saying to put yourself in financial jeopardy, but it’s time to figure out what makes you tick.” The girls, we know they’re full-blown women, but around Sal they felt like girls, listened with baited breath. “It’s not easy finding your passion. You have to cut through the bull-crap, but you know what? If you can’t put it on the line with yourself, then why bother? How can you find balance and trust and even love if you can’t find it within yourself?”

Grace laughed. “What’s the catch? What are you selling?”

Sal’s eyes danced. “Do you actually understand that your personal experience in life is to make a positive difference in someone else’s? Now you see, Gracie, do you mind if I call you Gracie? She gets it. She’s having her sister’s baby for Christ’s sake, but then after that, what? What are you doing George, how about you Clair? Are you making a difference?” Sal felt a little like a huckster, but at the same time, he knew how everything he just said resonated with his own life. He quit big bucks and the society list when he realized he wasn’t making a positive difference in anyone’s life.

George sighed. “I’m in recovery.”

“So?” queried Sal. “Recovery doesn’t define who you are. What’s the one thing you’d like to do? Don’t think about it, just blurt it out.”

And, so, George blurted it out. “Own my own business.”

“Now you have the seed of an idea and you can make it happen,” Sal replied.

“Not so easy,” Clair sighed.

Sal took Clair’s hand. “Change what you can. Do
good
where you see a need.”

Clair nodded. “I collect clothes for our church’s homeless shelter and I donate money.”

“All admirable things,” said Sal, “but can you imagine the difference you’d make in someone’s life if you actually engaged in a conversation with them? Helped them find a job?”

The girls sat there full of admiration for a man they had just met who inspired them to be better people. “I want to cook,” sighed Grace. “Who the hell are you, Saint Sal?"

“Saint?” he laughed out loud. “You haven’t met my first wife. She thinks I’m a shifty bastard with a mommy complex, a gambling habit, and two left feet. And you know what? When I was with her she was dead on, but I changed, I saw the light.”

“Whoa Nelly,” said Grace.

“Am I laying it on too thick?”

George laughed.
“Just a bit.”

“You can’t blame a guy for trying.” Sal bit the inside of his left cheek.

“And you can’t blame a gal for wanting a background check before you take her mother out,” said Clair.

“So, I didn’t pass the test?”
sighed
a clearly disappointed Sal.

“Oh you did, but if you turn out to be an asshole I will unleash a torrent of financial woes on your ass faster than you can say I.R.S. audit!” Clair slyly smiled.

 “Sounds like fun. Listen, I hope I get to see a lot more of you gals, but I have a gorgeous woman waiting for me.” He paid the bill, and took off to meet Diane.

 “You want to own your own business, really?” asked Grace.

“I do,”
said
a surprised George, “and you want to cook?”

“Yeah or maybe bake.
Crazy, no?”

 “Great. I’m the only one living the dream. I’m a CPA working for the best firm in the city and about to become partner, how boring is that?”

George squeezed Clair’s hand. “It’s not boring, it’s you.”

Grace cracked up. “It’s not boring, it’s you. I love it!”

“I should use that on my next campaign,” laughed George.

Clair and Henry sat in the
NG’s
office waiting for Grace to show up. It was a nice office she thought, but all the pottery, paintings, and even the black and white glamour shot of the Cocker spaniel couldn’t distract her from the task at hand. She squeezed Henry’s hand. He leaned in and whispered, “
maybe
we should have spoken to Grace before the session, you know, to give her a heads up?”

Clair whispered back, “I’m a loser. I chickened out four times.”

“You’re not a loser. You’re a wimp. There’s a difference.”

She jabbed him in the side. “Oh and mister I bought my sister-in-law inappropriate gifts, but couldn’t manage to blurt it out while stalking her on the way to work every morning?”

“I’m not stalking her.”

“No, it’s definitely not stalking anymore; it’s more like a drive-by. Now he just knocks, hands me a fortified breakfast or like this morning, a pair of walking shoes, and takes off.” Grace models them. “
Ain’t
they sweet? Is it okay if I start with that trainer you got me? I know I said no at first, but now, well, we’re five months and things are shifting big time.” Grace sat down.

Henry smiled. “See? I knew she’d like Reid.”

Clair rolled her eyes. “He’s way better looking than the panty liners.”

“You can say that again. So what’s up?
Why the special session?”
Grace queried.

Clair felt her stomach contort.
“Oh no reason.”

Grace wasn’t a fool. “What is so hard for you to tell me that you need a medical professional in the room?”

“Yes, Clair, what is so hard for you to tell your sister?” asked Dr.
Yael
as she came into the room from a secret passageway.

“Wow! You’re like Batman,” laughed Grace.

She smiled. “More like a renovated hotel with connecting doors. Shall we get started?”

Everyone including Henry looked at Clair. There was no one left for Clair to look at, so she cracked under pressure. “We need more…”

Grace was confused. “Uh, I hope you don’t mean time. ‘Cause this baby train is pretty much keeping its own schedule.”

“No, no.” said Henry. “We want to more time to experience the pregnancy. We want to be able to touch your stomach without you thinking we’re freaks. We want to know what foods you eat that make the baby react and if the baby kicks more at night or during the day. We want to read, or you know, sing so the baby knows our voices.”

Grace stared at them. “Wow! So, having the kid for you isn’t enough? Well, uh...” She looked at the NG for help.

Dr.
Yael
smiled. “As the reality of the child sets in and more importantly starts to physically show, it’s normal for the parents to feel like they’re missing out on a very magical time in their child’s life.”

“Since when is gaining weight, heartburn, and lower back pain magical?” asked Grace.

“Well, to you it’s not, but from a distance… Come on, Grace a human being is growing inside of you. How is that not magical?” Dr.
Yael
cracked.

“Okay, okay, but still, more time? That’s like impossible.”

Dr.
Yael
looked to Clair and Henry, then back to Grace. “Not if we set some boundaries.”

Grace was uneasy. “I get this. You know, your need to be completely immersed in this pregnancy because, well, when I’m not with you it’s
sorta
easy to forget that you’re pregnant, but if I were a complete stranger having your kid would you ask me to do this?”

Henry cleared his throat. “I don’t know, maybe, but we didn’t know what it would be like; what it would feel like to be absentee parents-to-be.”

Dr.
Yael
tried to get the conversation rolling. “Grace, what are your misgivings?”

“Well, I’m not just an incubator. I’ve got my own life and stuff. I just happen to be having your kid. There are things I need to do for me and I do need some privacy.”

“I get it,” sighed a disappointed Clair, “but we won’t be intrusive. I promise. We’ll figure out a schedule that everyone agrees with; we’ll put it in writing if you want.”

Grace knew this was the right thing to do and that this wasn’t her kid; hell it wasn’t her pregnancy.  “You do know I have a job, so you’re just going to have to miss out on some things.”

“I thought you were quitting?” said Clair.

“Great idea,” said Henry, “you can stay home with the baby.”

Grace looked at Henry and sighed. “Uh, the baby is home inside me, remember? You want me to sit around keeping food diaries and in-
utero
baby activity charts?”

“Why not?” said Clair, “Sal said you could quit.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “He’s been dating mom for two weeks and now he’s Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“Do you want to quit your job?” asked the doctor.

“To do what, learn to sew?” asked Grace.

“Yeah, sew together the life you want to live,” said Dr.
Yael
.

Grace rolled her eyes. “Okay that was bad-- even for you--but, uh, don’t you see that as a problem? I’ll be barefoot and pregnant with someone else’s kid, living in a house I earned by getting knocked up by my brother-in-law. I mean, what kind of loser does that
make
me?”

“You’d only be a loser if you didn’t use the time wisely,” NG said while writing in her pad.

Clair smiled. “See? It can work.”

Grace sighed. “I guess, but documenting your kid’s life in-
utero
is not the life I want to sew together.”

“We can figure out visitation hours and set up a webcam and webpage, so you can post pictures and information and then we won’t actually have to be in the room with you every day.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Aren’t you just jumping on the crazy wagon?” Grace looked at NG. “I want to be fair, but I would prefer not to live in a George Orwell novel.”

The doctor smiled. “I’m sure we can figure out a happy medium. Henry, what do you think? You’ve been very quiet.”

Henry looked at his wife and sister-in-law. “The books I’ve been reading say it’s important for the child to hear the parents’ voices before it’s born.”

That melted Grace’s heart. “If I do this, there are rules. Never buy me anything again, not for me, not for the pregnancy, deal?” Grace had second thoughts. “Uh, but Reid doesn’t count.”

Henry smiled.
“Deal.”
And so with the help of the Nubian Goddess, the Higgins sisters were able to negotiate a deal. Grace was to keep a baby journal and in return, Clair and Henry had to stop stalking her. All in all, everyone was happy. Well, everyone, but Jack who was starting to feel like the fifth wheel.

“You gave them every other weekend?” Jack was shocked. As he packed up the rest of Grace’s dishes, he tried reasoning with her. “What about me? What happens if the only time I have off is when they’re scheduled for a sleepover?”

Grace, who was packing her linens laughed. “Okay, you’re acting like a fifth grader. It’s not the end of the world.”

Jack was feeling like a petulant child and, so, he continued to act like one. “I’m just saying we barely have enough time together as it is and now this?”

“We see each other twice a week and every weekend. Besides, we’ll have more time after I quit my job.”

“You’re quitting? What is going on here?” an exasperated Jack asked.

For the life of her, Grace couldn’t figure out what his problem was. “We talked about this. I’m not happy, so why not quit when I can figure out my life and not have to worry about the bills. Plus, if I’m not working nights, there’s more time for us. It’s a win-win situation.”

Jack looked across the dining room to where she was sitting. “I know, but…”

Grace walked into the kitchen, picked up some of her stemware, and started wrapping it in newspaper. “What’s wrong? You’re acting weird.” Jack hesitated. Grace leveled him with a look. “Quit acting like a girl. And don’t lie to me. We said we’d be honest, right?”

Jack leaned back on his haunches and then sat. “Honest? I hate you in orange, honest, or gut wrenching emotional, why didn’t you tell me Ray’s been calling here and that he came to see you at work, honest?”

As she put the wrapped glass into the box labeled kitchen, her heart began beating really fast. “Oh.”

Jack felt his stomach drop as he put the last of Grace’s Fiesta Ware dishes into its storage case. “He called when you were in the bathroom and told me everything.”

Grace wasn’t going to lie; she had no reason to lie. “I didn’t think it was important.” She smiled at a frowning Jack. “You look so mean right now.”

“This is how I look when I’m scared.”

That’s when she realized he was afraid of losing her. Something about that soothed her jangled nerves. “I’m confused by the whole Ray wants to be back in my life thing, and I didn’t want to upset you.” Grace noticed that Jack relaxed a tiny bit. “He told you everything? What’s everything? That he showed up to my office and brought me flowers, which I gave away--bet he didn’t tell you that. Did he tell you I told him to leave me alone for like the fifteenth millionth time?”

Jack didn’t like how worked up she got talking about this guy. “He said you said that you loved him and you’d always love him.”

The color drained from Grace’s face. She sat down on the floor across from Jack. There was no way out of this. “Yeah, well, I do love him, but I’m not
in
love with him. And there’s a difference you know. I love him like you love a twelve year old Retriever who’s incontinent, but you’re afraid to put him asleep.”

“Most people don’t put their dogs to sleep because they feel guilty doing it. From what you’ve told me, you have nothing to feel guilty about.” Jack tried to look away from her. It was her eyes that got him; deep pools of green that were filled with so much confusion right now. “You obviously love the guy and if you love him then there’s a damn good chance you’re still
in
love with him.” He really hated this conversation.

“You’re right,” she whispered, as she leaned against the pile of blue and red-checkered tablecloths from her days as a manager of an Italian restaurant.

“I am?” Now the color drained out of Jack’s face. “Fuck!”

“I’m in love with idea of what he could be, you know? I have this “what if” haunting me because I wasn’t able to save him from himself. It’s like with my dad. No matter how many times I replay the morning in my head and change it and I get up and help him shovel, he’s still dead.”

“So, now what?” asked a very unhappy Jack.

“I don’t know.” She kissed the inside of his right palm. “But you’re going to have to trust me.” Jack was scared and confused right now. Grace could see it in his eyes. She had to admit that she was too. “I didn’t expect you to show up in my life when you did, or for Ray to come back, or to actually be pregnant, so we just have to take it one day at a time, okay?” Grace kissed him. “Right now though, I need some Cherry Garcia. You up for a Ben and Jerry run?”

 “This is where we leave it? You don’t know if you want me, the best thing that ever happened to you, or Ray the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, but you definitely want ice cream? And I’m supposed to be okay with that?”

Grace knew he was right. “All I know is that I love every minute I spend with you, I have to pee all the time, I need closure with Ray, and if I don’t get Cherry Garcia in the next twenty minutes, I’m not responsible for my actions!”

Jack felt a little better. “Cherry Garcia isn’t even a flavor.”

Grace rolled her eyes.
“Why such disdain for the Cherry Garcia?
A treat made in honor of the greatest Rock and Roller to ever live--drop the attitude buddy!”

He laughed, “I thought pregnant women craved pickles and chocolate and sex.”

“Pickles?
That’s an old wives tale.
Chocolate and sex?
Women don’t have to be pregnant to crave that.
Oooh
, chocolate! I want to stop at Ethel M’s; they have the best chocolate peanut butter clusters, which would taste so
great
slathered in Cherry Garcia.”

“Good thing you’re starting with that trainer.”

“Yeah, he’s a
hottie
!” said Grace as she headed out the door.

“What does that mean? Are you’re
gonna
need closure with him too?” asked Jack, as he followed her out.